Eileen Prince's Tale
by Vitrikor
Summary: An attempt at constructing a narrative on the backstory of Eileen  Prince  Snape's life. Attempting to be true to canon as much as is feasible with what little given. Primarily from Eileen's POV.
1. Chapter 1: In Memory

**Author's Note:**

**Alright, so this is the second fanfic I'm writing. I was thinking of holding it off until I finished The Otter, the Doe, and the Time Turner (which will continue to be my primary one), but I had a rather strong inspiration for this, and wanted to write at least a baseline down while the idea was still fresh.**

**In short, this is sort of my interpretation of the backstory of Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape – trying to piece it together via what little information is given in the books. Obviously the majority of this is just conjecture, but I'm trying to make it as feasible as possible.**

**The first chapter is more or less from the point of view of Snape/Lily looking back at "flashes" from Eileen's life in a pensieve. Second chapter and onwards will be from Eileen's point of view though … most of her life as I imagine it. I have the story arc more or less all plotted out.**

**Finally, I was somewhat unsure exactly when Eileen was born. I'm guessing that if her book was "over fifty years old" in 1995 – as seems to be indicated by the text – she'd have to have been born prior to 1930. Just… to sort of help a plotline along, I made it 1927; meaning she'll be the same year as Tom Riddle. Which, I shan't say too much on yet, but will play a rather major role in things later on.**

**For now though, this chapter serves as sort of a cryptic summary of her overall life, which will be the basis for the subsequent chapters of the story. So if you have any commentary, please, please comment. **

_January 12__th__, 1976_

Slughorn's Potions class was in full swing, students leaning over odd-smelling concoctions – one unfortunate pair of Slytherins' cauldrons suddenly boiling over and shooting a foul-smelling smoke in their faces – much to the chagrin of a certain four Gryffindors.

In most cases, the enmity between the Houses was such that both kept chiefly to their own – with one quite glaring exception: in the back corner of the room, huddled together over a cauldron, a dark-haired Slytherin stood beside a young woman – both her hair and badge a brilliant shade of red. Severus Snape and Lily Evans; despite all their circumstantial differences, despite what the world might say of them, the closest of friends.

Needless to say, such a matter caused a certain degree of trouble for them in each of their respective Houses, but for now, any such troubles were the furthest things from their mind. It'd been Sev's – as Lily liked to call him – sixteenth birthday the past Friday, and remarkably, they'd had the weekend at Hogsmeade almost to themselves in the first week back after holidays. And now, here they were in Potions, Snape's absolute favorite class. The "two most brilliant young potioneers" Slughorn claimed to have ever met – perhaps not even in hyperbole – stood rapidly engaged in finishing off their particular brew, expecting nothing more than to be the top of the class again – five points to each respective House – almost a routine by now.

When something happened. Something certainly neither of them, nor anyone in the class as a whole, would have expected.

He walked in. Dumbledore. The grey-robed, grey bearded Headmaster of Hogwarts. None of the usual joviality could be found in his eyes. "Severus," he spoke, rather solemnly, approaching the named student. "I'd like a word with you in my office…"

"Professor!" Lily interjected, "Whatever it was, Sev didn't do it. We were together almost all weekend, and I can vouch for…"

"It was nothing that Severus did, Miss Evans…" Dumbledore shook his head. But strangely, his tone did nothing to relieve either of them. There was an unspoken undertone, indicating that something much, much worse than any matter of Hogwarts discipline. "But I'm afraid that something rather serious has happened. Though, in times like these, I find our friends, our true friends matter more than ever. If you'd wish it Severus, I would have Lily accompany us as well."

By now most of the room had fallen into an eerie silence, broken only by the whispering of the other students, hypothesizing about what Dumbledore had to say to Snape.

"I…" Snape looked down for a moment, bewildered, and rather distraught over this sudden intrusion and Dumbledore's rather foreboding words… "Yeah, she can come with…"

"Well," said Dumbledore, in a rather kind, if somewhat solemn tone. "We'd best be off then…"

The walk to Professor Dumbledore's office was again eerily silent – all the students still in the classes. Snape and Lily had hardly ever seen the corridors so empty. Though he tried not to show it, Snape's heart was racing as they reached the top of the stairs. Just what was going on? What could have happened that was so terrible that it couldn't be said in front of others…?

"Please take a seat…" It was said in a rather quiet tone, but because of the implications of it, Lily was nearly trembling. Snape was still rather stoic in appearance, but it was becoming an increasingly difficult task to maintain.

"There's no easy way of saying this, I'm quite afraid…" Dumbledore began, "And, I feel it would be a great disservice to you to not tell you everything." He paused a moment. "This past Saturday, your mother, Eileen Prince, was found dead in her home at Spinner's End."

The expression in Snape's eyes was if someone had literally stabbed him. Lily looked as if she were about to cry, placing her hand on Snape's arm in an attempt to offer him some small comfort.

"That is not all to the matter… There's more. The reason it took several days to tell you. The Ministry wanted this kept secret, but, as her son, I feel you deserve to know how your mother died. Two spells were registered in the presence of a muggle at Spinner's End that night. _Petrificus Totalus_ and… the _Killing Curse_… When Ministry agents arrived to apprehend her, they found your father stunned, and your mother… dead by her own hand…"

Any life in Snape's eyes was now long since gone. He didn't even feel pain just… numb, dead… It didn't make any sense. None of it did. Why would his mother kill herself? True, Tobias was a terrible, abusive man; made her every living moment absolute agony. But if she finally stood up to him; used magic in defiance of him, and the law that forbade it; why would she not kill him? Why herself?

It was maddening, insane. It didn't follow. Nothing about it seemed right. This … this had to just be some terrible nightmare. He'd wake up, see Lily, and probably have forgotten about it by the time that breakfast was over. But no; this was real, far too real…

Losing his balance, Severus fell out of his chair, falling to the ground, struggling to hold back the tears. Lily was one thing; she he could trust – but not Dumbledore…

Hurriedly, Lily rushed to Snape's side, holding him for a moment and pulling him back up into his seat.

"There's one bit more. When… the Ministry agents arrived, they found in your mother's possession two items. A letter and a vial. After some negotiations, I've convinced them to allow you to have these…" Slowly, Dumbledore handed Snape a folded letter, and a vial with a strange, glowing silvery substance, somewhere between gas and liquid.

"I… heard students running in the hall I think…" Dumbledore remarked. "I'll leave you and Miss Evans here for now…" And with that, the older man left – much to Snape's relief. He almost nodded gratefully.

Tears were actually coming now, despite all of Lily's attempts at comforting him. It was unfair, so bloody unfair. All her life, his mother was abused by that terrible man; he drove her to her death, when he should have been the one to die!

His hand quivering, he flipped open the letter, his eyes poring over his mother's all too familiar, hastily-scrawled handwriting.

_Dear Severus,_

_I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive your poor, weak mother. I know that there were many times I wasn't there for you; so many things I should have done that I never. I loved you, always loved you, but in my folly and weakness could not protect you as a mother should. I have faltered in my duty, and once more failed._

_Still it seems I am too weak. No matter how much he has hurt me, hurt you, I cannot bring myself to kill another. I've seen death, torture suffering. Far more than I would have liked you to see. But when it comes to it, I cannot bring myself to end his life. It's too late now. They are coming I'm sure. _

_I've lived the last thirteen years of my life in a prison. I won't spend the rest of it in Azkaban. Tonight I make my escape, leave this world behind. It is a coward's choice, I know. To not remain here, to not stay and protect you. I hope, only hope, you can forgive me, for all my many failings._

_There were so many things I wanted to tell you, that now I never can in person. For that too, I am so very sorry. I have made many mistakes in my life, but loving you was never one. I hope only that in seeing my life, what I've done it… can bring some closure; perhaps ensure that my mistakes are never repeated._

_I'm so sorry for my weakness, so sorry for leaving you Severus. Be strong, like I never could be. I'll always be watching over you, now that I am free._

_I love you, so very much._

_Your Mother,_

_Eileen Prince_

For several minutes, Severus stared at the letter just… numb. Unable to even fully process what he was reading. In some ways, every word seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

"I'm so sorry…" Lily said softly, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder, a tear trickling down her own face.

"It… it doesn't make any sense!" Snape suddenly exclaimed, "How could she…? Why did she…?"

"She loved you, Sev… There had to be a reason…"

"Lily, she killed herself, she…!" He stopped, suddenly feeling a rather hot stream of tears flowing down his cheek. The words he wanted to say couldn't come out. She – in a very real sense it seemed – had abandoned her son. Even if her life was absolutely miserable; even if there was nothing she could really do for her son. At least before she'd been there. Even if it was a ghost of a life; her body alive but not living.

"Maybe…" Lily mused softly, holding the vial out to him. "Maybe you should take a look… Before you take a final judgment. We all deserve to have our stories told…"

Snape nodded slowly, taking it from her. He … didn't know what to think. Didn't know what to possibly expect. It struck him now he knew relatively few things about his parents' pasts. Just that… his mother had been stupid enough to marry a muggle, and his father hated him and his mother. Eileen had rarely brought anything about her life before up with him – aside from her Hogwarts years in brief passing – and Snape never really asked. Even as a child he could tell it was something she … didn't feel comfortable discussing.

His hand trembling a bit, he uncapped the vial, and poured the silvery substance inside the pensieve – evidently already set up in advance by Dumbledore. Holding his breath for a moment, Snape pressed his head against the liquid.

For a moment, there was nothing.

Then, stood a large, rather imposing manor. The sky was dark, a moonless, cold night, the stars barely providing illumination. Yet on the gate, Severus thought he could make out the word "Prince". So, this was his mother's home, when she was a child?

Then as suddenly as it had appeared, a woman's screams were heard, a violent fire raged across the manor, illuminating the sky in an evil-looking orange glow. A young dark-haired girl, no more than five or six ran out of the gate frantically.

The image faded, and was replaced by one more familiar to Snape. A playground. A group of children surrounded a frightened-looking girl, probably eight or nine. She was pleading with them to stop, but they kept on smashing flowers that had grown in an eerily perfect circle around them. Then a voice shouting angrily; they ran off.

The same playground, the other children now gone. Only a young Eileen, dressed in what were rather obvious witch clothing – of a noble background at that though somewhat dirty. And beside her, a young boy, maybe a year or so older. "You're… not really a witch, are you?" He asked, seeming quite concerned. "You were just pretending, right?"

Snape could see his nine-year-old mother bite her lip – a nervous habit he'd seen far too many times – that evidently she had even in her childhood. "Right." She said forcing a smile. "It's just pretend."

Then it faded to Spinner's End – Snape's own residence, years before he'd been born. Little had changed, however; it was perhaps a bit less decrepit, but still dingy, small, and uncomfortable-looking. A middle-aged man, obviously a wizard was arguing quite heatedly with Eileen, though he couldn't hear the words. Bitterly, she stormed off to her room and started crying on her pillow.

Next, the Hogwarts express, Eileen sitting alone looking out the window – a few tears in her eyes. Then, the door opened. A young brown-haired boy, also a first year –as neither yet had House badges entered.

"You another first year?" he'd asked, in a rather kind voice, "I was wondering if … maybe I might sit here as well?"

"Yeah…" Eileen nodded to both, hoping her tears weren't seen by him. "I'm Eileen Prince." She extended her hand.

"Tom Riddle…" and the other shook, with surprising strength.

It took somewhat longer, but a new scene formed. Eileen, now fourteen or fifteen was standing in front of an unknown house, an older version of the boy from earlier beside her. They seemed to be fighting.

"I'm sorry!" Eileen exclaimed, rather angrily. "I meant to be here for the holidays, but … something came up and I…"

"Something with your boarding school." The male replied bitterly.

Eileen looked as if she was about to burst into tears. "I… Don't you think I wish you could come there with me but…?"

"You won't even tell me where it is. What it is. I can't even write to you when you're there… Why are you always lying to me, Eileen?"

"I…" she whimpered "I'm not lying! I wouldn't lie! Not to you! Uncle just doesn't want me to talk about it, alright? Can I please just come in…?"

"It's too late, Eileen. It's always you and your school, you and your uncle. You've made your choice. It's them you want, not me. It's fine. I don't belong in your world."

And in an instant, the young man turned on his heels, slamming the door behind him.

"Tobias!" Eileen had screamed. "Don't leave me…! I'm sorry… I'll… tell you _everything_…!"

But the door remained closed.

The scene faded again, and Eileen was back at Hogwarts. Tom was with her.

"Really Eileen, you need to forget him… He's just a _muggle_… They're all like this…" he frowned a bit, seeming sympathetic, a hand on her shoulder. "My father was the same… Muggles; no matter how kind you are to them, how much you do for them. In the end, they're all the same. They'd destroy us if they had the chance but… We won't let that happen, will we?" He paused a moment, Eileen was near tears again. "I'm sorry though… that he hurt you. You deserve better than a muggle. A purer, nobler wizard. Someone who can help to restore your family's name. Now do you see how I was right about him? It… was a lesson that needed to be learned but I'm … sorry it had to be this way."

"Yeah… I understand…" Eileen nodded weakly. "You were right all along."

A much longer period of time went by, then suddenly it happened. A barrage. There were just flashes, images. Eileen leaving Hogwarts for the last time; a fight, a verbal altercation with several male wizards; Eileen in her mid or late twenties back in Spinner's End, alone, brewing a potion. Her with Tobias again, the two of them smiling, laughing together. Their wedding day, Eileen in a dress of white, looking almost dignified, if in muggle clothing.

Then, their home again. A fight again. Eileen showing signs of pregnancy. Eileen holding a baby Severus in her arms alone, crying softly. A fight between Eileen and Tobias – the latter screaming, threatening her and Snape – screaming that she "lied to him". And from there, it was all scenes that Snape knew far too well. His father abusing his mother and him, making their every day a living hell.

And with that, all ended. Snape was thrust back from the Pensieve, looking distraught, disoriented.

"What… did you see…?" Lily asked softly, cautiously.

"I… I don't know…"


	2. The Princess and Her Knight

**Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long in getting started with this. Been sort of busy, and this is, for the moment, the secondary story I'm writing (if I get more feedback on it, that could change); the primary one I'm working on is a HG/SS one (linked to in my profile obviously). Either if I get more feedback on this, or when I finish that one, I'll work more on this one. But if there's no real following for this, I don't really see the point in writing it too quickly.**

**In any case, I have the plot arc for this all pretty well thought out. It'll go at least through all seven years of Eileen's time at Hogwarts, and there'll be some on the time between that and her inevitable marriage to Tobias/raising Severus. The arc itself is more or less set; I might add in a few subplots along the way.**

**Despite it being pairing-wise Eileen/Tobias, Eileen is going to be much more the primary protagonist than Tobias. Particularly when she starts going to school, she'll only really hear from him during the summers and holidays. Sort of a theme I'm playing on. I know, canonically, there's nothing to suggest that they knew each other as children; but there's nothing (that I know of) to say they **_**didn't**_** either. I'll attempt to be as strict to canon as possible, but there's not all that much to work with, so it's somewhat open-ended.**

**Other characters that will play an important role in things are Tom Riddle, Minerva McGonagall, Dumbledore, Slughorn – and later on Hagrid at Hogwarts, as well as some of those who'll go on to be the original Death Eaters. The formation of the Death Eaters and Eileen's positions on things are going to be the center of the plot arc from her point of view later on, so it's in a way also an attempt at explaining how it all started – granted mostly from her point of view on things.**

**So yes, I'm admittedly taking a lot of liberties with things, but trying to stick true to whatever canon is available. If there's any glaring canonical errors in things, let me know; but hopefully it won't be an issue. And finally, if you find this idea interesting, PLEASE make some indication of such, so I know whether or not I should bother expending too much effort at writing this right now. Thanks in advance.**

_Early Summer, 1936_

It was, in most respects, a typical summer afternoon in the noisy, dirty, crowded industrial town of Cokeworth, England. As close to typical as it got at least. Being summer, though late afternoon, the sun was still relatively high in the sky. The children, on summer holiday tended to congregate in a certain playground at the far side of Spinner's End; their parents for the most part still finishing up their long days at the mills and factories.

Here, alongside a swingset and a few other such contraptions of twisted metal form for the amusement of the children of working class muggle England, existed some of the only grass and flowers in the dirty town, almost otherwise extinct species therein. As any day, the children were seen and heard running, laughing screaming, fighting a bit amongst one another perhaps over the allotted amount of time on a swing – whether or not one was obligated after a certain period to surrender it to another child's use. All this was, for the most part, typical.

On the rather far end of the playground, seated on the grass, however, was a young girl – about nine years old from the looks of things – who was anything but typical. Her clothing certainly was no exception. Rather than the rather drab, tatty clothing that most of the other neighborhood children would wear to the playground, she was wearing what almost looked like robes. A very elegant sort, an emerald green silky hue; in silver stitching there was what would have looked to the muggle children as a family crest of a royal family, below it writing in some unknown, ancient tongue. Her black hair was somewhat short, done into a pony tail on either side. Everything about her seemed rather out of place with her surroundings. But the girl herself seemed utterly ignorant of the fact, as if sitting in the grass in the far side of the playground was the most natural thing in the world.

If it had not been for her appearance giving her off, her actions certainly would. She was whistling to herself a bit of a tune; staring at the other children, fifty meters off or so as the played – a deeply curious look on her face; as if debating a bit internally, trying to work up the courage to go up to them.

This wasn't, in fact, the first time she'd been to the playground; but every time before, she'd hidden herself away. She wasn't sure why. It was so … lonely at home. No one to play with. But just, she was still a bit nervous of them. Maybe it was the way her uncle would always go on and on about how terrible muggles were, how they were the cause of their race's downfall; she wasn't sure she fully believed him. They seemed normal enough.

But still, she wasn't quite brave to go up to them herself. She decided instead to show herself this time; see if maybe the muggle children would come up to her. So far though, it hadn't worked too well.

Well, watching them in itself was interesting enough. Though kind of sad, always feeling the outsider. Eileen sighed slightly. They looked so happy, running, playing with each other; even fighting, that was still something. She could remember in the distant past such times. Vaguely recall her parents' faces, the parties there'd be at their house; the witch and wizard children she could play with. But that was all gone now, distant as a dream. Sometimes it didn't even feel like it was ever real.

Sure her uncle meant well enough, she thought. He kept her fed, looked after her, seemed to care about her safety – perhaps a bit too much if anything; but, he was a distant man. There was Eitra too, her parents' House Elf; who'd saved her life the day of the terrible fire. And she was kind, dutiful enough. But still, neither was enough to rid her of the desperate loneliness that plagued her. She wanted, needed a friend. And though muggles might be a distant hope, it was at least worth a try…

As she sat watching them, almost without thinking of it, Eileen had been using magic. She was just a child, of course, so she wasn't the best at it. But, there were spells she could used. Transfiguration in particular. She liked using magic on plants. Simple things really, but she enjoyed it.

A boredly, Eileen plucked a blade of grass from the ground, held it in her hands for a few seconds, thinking about it intently, and a rather elegant, white flower emerged from the end, the blade itself becoming a stem. Smiling a bit, she put the flower in her hair; then spun her hands around her in all directions, a perfect circle of white flowers emerging behind her hands.

Eileen was for a moment so caught up in her spell that she failed to notice a pair of eyes belonging to a rather chubby muggle boy, probably a year or so older than herself, looking straight at her.

"Hey everyone!" he called, "Look at the _freak_."

Eileen looked for a moment a bit confused. Was there some fight breaking out between the muggle children? It took her a few seconds, mostly as a group of three or four the muggles came to stand around her, to realize that he was talking about _her_.

"That" Eileen said with a rather dignified frown, standing up "Isn't a very nice thing to say."

"Well, what else would you call _that_?" The boy jeered, coming up to her and physically shoving her back, pointing to the ring of flowers on the ground."_Freak_."

"I…" Eileen stammered, taken aback, and starting to look rather hurt at the childrens' sudden hostility. Why were they doing this to her? She hadn't done anything to them; she was just watching, wanting maybe to make a friend. "I'm not a freak." She protested, trying to find an avenue for escape; but now she was surrounded by muggles on all side "That was just magic. Transfiguration. Basic stuff. Here, I'll show you."

She stooped down to pick up a blade of grass, hoping that if she could just show the spell to the muggles that maybe they'd understand; and with that understanding they could all get along. But before she could do that, the same muggle boy who'd first approached her shoved her to the ground. Face first in effect, as she'd bent over.

"Magic?" The boy jeered. "You mean you think you can do magic. Looks like we've got a real looney on our hands here. Think she's a bit mental. Maybe I'll have my dad call the cops and have this one sent off to a padded room."

"I'm not mental!" Eileen protested, close to tears. Why were they treating her so horribly? Maybe… maybe her uncle was right about them; and this was just how all muggles really were. It seemed difficult to believe before, but now, it was starting to look like he'd been right all along.

She pushed herself to her feet, looking the muggle boy dead in the eye. "I'm a _witch_." She stated quite adamantly, "A pureblooded one too. My father was a wizard, and my mother a witch. And I live with my uncle, a powerful wizard. And if he hears about how you treated me, he won't be happy."

It'd been intended to get them to back down. She couldn't really tell her uncle of course; he'd be furious at her for sneaking off like this, getting herself into this mess. But they didn't need to know that. Even muggles had stories about wizards and witches right? So the thought of angering a powerful wizard should be enough to get them to leave her alone, she reasoned.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect. The muggles all started laughing at her.

"A _witch_?" The boy laughed, joined by the other. "What are you going to do? Send a black cat after us? Make a voodoo doll? Fly away on your broom? Make a potion?" Each rhetorically posed question followed by increasingly sharp laughter from the other muggles who seemed to be little more than his followers.

By now, Eileen really had started to cry. It was obvious now that she really did have no place in their world. Muggles would always hate her, ridicule her for she was.

"Oh, look, the little _witch_ is starting to _cry_. Better watch out before she turns us all into frogs and feeds us to her cat."

"Let me go!" Eileen exclaimed, wanting nothing more in that moment than to run straight back to her uncle's house on the other end of Spinner's End and never return to the playground or see any of these muggle children ever again.

But the others blocked her way. There were at least half a dozen of them, and any direction she tried to run, there'd be someone there, shoving her back.

"Not so fast, witchy witch. Don't you need a broom to travel? Why don't you borrow one at my house. I'm sure my mum wouldn't mind."

"I don't fly…!" Eileen exclaimed in fury, clenching her fists. "I'm not old enough. And your stupid _muggle_ brooms wouldn't work anyway!"

"Ooh, looks like we made her mad. What's a muggle? Some sort of secret witch curse?"

"It's…" Eileen huffed, looking around desperately, but not seeing any way out of the mess she'd fallen into. "The word we have for those who can't use magic. Someone like _you_." There was actually a bit of venom, indignation in her tone now. She'd literally done nothing to them; if anything just wanted to make friends, and they were going out of their way to ridicule and bully her. She really was starting to hate them.

"Oh, guess we're all _muggles_ then." The boy jeered in mock offense, another round of laughter following.

_Yes, you are. And the absolute worst sort I've ever met…_ Eileen thought, though didn't voice her words. She was pretty much helpless then and there. She knew a bit of simple magic, mostly transfiguration and a few charms. Not enough to fight off six or seven muggles, most of them with a height and weight advantage on her all at once. If they went much further, things could end up really bad.

"I'm sorry, I'll never bother any of you again. I'll never come to this playground again for the rest of my life. Just let me _go_…!" Eileen shouted, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. She was actually quite frightened. She'd heard that in the past, some muggles had done terrible things to witches and wizards. She'd thought that was all in the past, and especially children, today would be different. But… these children seemed not all that different from muggles of those days in their attitudes towards her. They were terrible. She never wanted to see or be near them again.

"Isn't that what you'd like." The boy jeered, shoving Eileen down to the ground again. "Maybe we will, maybe we won't. First though, gotta get rid of the 'magic'."

Another muggle boy from behind grabbed the flower from Eileen's hair, against her protestations and stamped it into the ground. The biggest boy, the one who'd started all of this grabbed her from behind, as the other children went to the circle of flower she made and started stamping on them one by one.

"No! Please! Stop!" Eileen screamed, struggling to break free of the boy's grasp, but it was all in vain. Terrified, heartbroken, she continued to struggle as the muggle bullies destroyed her work in front of her, the biggest of them laughing cruelly in her ear. Everything seemed to be coming to a terrible ending.

Then she heard another voice. Coming from behind, and held as she was, she couldn't turn her field of vision to see who it was. But it was one she hadn't heard before. Not one of the muggle bullies. And he seemed angry.

"What do you idiots think you're doing?"

The muggle holding her let go, and for a second, Eileen fell to the ground, stunned. Pushing herself back up, she saw that a new boy, about as big, if not bigger than the one tormenting her was there. And from the look on his face, he seemed almost as outraged as her. He had dark hair, not unlike her own, though it was wavier and a bit unkempt. His face with rather dirty, and there was a bit of a bruise on his right cheekbone. But there was a rather fierce look in his dark eyes, as if challenging the others to fight him.

The bully had turned to face him, thus releasing Eileen. Though there was a challenging look in his own eyes, his followers at least were backing off, taking several paces back from the new challenger. "Just dealing with a _freak_." He said, pointing at Eileen, "Thinks she's a _witch_. None of your concern, Toby."

"You're the biggest freak I know…" the young boy, apparently named 'Toby' mused. "And she's obviously smarter than you are if she tricked you into thinking she's a witch… Not that that's saying the most…"

"Why you…" the other boy started, clenching his fists.

"You want to fight, really?" Toby responded, almost as if he was bored by the very thought. "I'm sure my father would be interested to hear you like hitting girls and started another fight with me. Remember what happened last time we fought?"

"Why do you care, Toby? I wasn't doing anything to _you_."

"And it looks like she wasn't doing anything to you either. So you shouldn't be bothering her unless you want me bothering you."

The older boy huffed, looking at Toby; for a second, Eileen was sure he was going to try to fight him, before groaning and turning to leave.

"This isn't over…" he muttered, shooting Eileen a look as he left.

"Actually, it is." Toby said, coming to stand next to her. "I don't ever want to see you near her again. I'll tell my father about this if you do."

The other didn't even bother to respond, as he and his 'followers' bade a hasty retreat.

"Thanks." Eileen nodded to the boy, recovering herself from what had just happened. It was … surprising to say the least. She hadn't thought that a muggle would save her, a witch, from other muggles. But, obviously she didn't know muggles very well; as just half an hour or so before, she'd assumed they'd all want to be her friends. Clearly she had a lot to learn. It was … confusing, but maybe she had a friend.

"Oh, it's fine." The boy nodded, even smiling a bit. "I'm Tobias by the way; Tobias Snape. Mostly everyone calls me Toby though. What's your name?"

"Eileen Prince." She replied, a curt nod that rather quickly melted into a smile. "Umm, it's very nice to meet you, Toby."

"Sure." Toby paused. "You new to the neighborhood I take it? Fair warning, there's a few idiots of their sort here who like to cause trouble. My father's a policeman though, so they never much bother me. And you didn't seem to be causing trouble yourself, so I thought I'd get 'em off you too. Especially since you're new and all, right?"

"Actually, umm, I've lived here about four years." Eileen frowned slightly, trying to not think about her reasons for having moved to Spinner's End in the first place. "Down the street with my uncle. But, umm, he doesn't want me going out much. Thinks there might be trouble or something if I did. Guess he was sort of right…" she smiled a bit sheepishly.

"Ehh, they won't give you any more trouble if they know what's good for them." Toby nodded, "Let me know if they do, alright?"

"Thanks." Eileen smiled, though bit her lip again a second later. "I still… don't think my uncle would like it though. He's kind of …" She paused, frowning. Trying to think of the right word, to explain it. Toby seemed, rather nice. Quite the opposite of the muggles she'd met immediately before, but. She didn't really want to get into all the matters of being from a pureblooded witch family. Somehow she had the sense that, nice as he was, even he might not understand.

"Strict?" Toby offered, nodding slightly. "Yeah, my dad can be kind of the same. I get it. Don't worry, I won't tell your uncle or anything. Actually, you seem like a rather interesting person. Great imagination you've got."

"Imagination?" Eileen question, instantly regretting it.

"Well, yeah. That whole bit about being a witch and using magic. The others are just idiots, they don't get that sort of thing."

"Right…" Eileen added, a somewhat unsure tone. Was… was he really like the others too? Well, he seemed nicer but; would he also hate her, reject her, if he knew what she was. She … wasn't fully sure. But it wasn't worth risking it. Not now that it seemed there was a slight chance she might actually have a friend.

"You're… not really a witch, are you?" Toby asked, seeming quite concerned at her tone. "You were just pretending, right?"

For the second time, in a sort of nervous tick, Eileen bit her lip. "Right." She said forcing a smile. "It's just pretend."


	3. The Unspeakable

**Author's Note: Let's see. To anyone still following my works after all this time, thank you for your loyalty. I'm really sorry for not keeping up with things; there's been a number of major transitions with life, etc. that I won't bore you with. I'll try now to keep these stories updated as best as I can. Thanks in advance for your following, etc.**

**Sorry if this/the next few chapters seem a bit slow. I want to have some contrast between Eileen's earlier, relatively happy life and what's coming next, so I'll probably have 3-4 more chapters of "fluff" before she sets off to Hogwarts and things start to change.**

**Anyhow, please feel free to comment/etc. Thanks.**

_Early Summer, 1936_

"Some imagination you've got there." Toby offered, friendlily, "Can't believe I didn't meet you before. You'd think I'd remember it though. You…" he paused suddenly, "You don't go to my school?"

"Oh, that…" Eileen looked suddenly more pale, the blades of grass on the ground suddenly taking far more of her attention than seemed natural. "My uncle, you see… He's schooling me at home. I… he… he's really good actually."

"Oh." Toby smiled, Eileen looking to him warily at first, but with growing confidence as he seemed to take her words at face value. She really wished he'd stop pressing these kinds of questions though. It didn't feel good to have to lie to someone who'd just saved her; somehow though, she had the instinct enough to know that the alternative was all the worse.

"Well, it's summer anyhow," Toby continued, thankfully oblivious to the deep concern running through Eileen's mind. "I suppose it doesn't mean much anyway. I'm surprised you don't get lonely though…"

"I do…!" Eileen exclaimed, far more suddenly and emphatically than she'd expected, her pale cheeks now growing scarlet red. "I mean…" she continued, trying to regain some of her earlier dignity, "My uncle is amazing, and Ei-, uhh… _I_ really like studying with him, but… sometimes I wanted to meet someone else, you know? Which is why I came out here in the first place. Stupid of me I know, running right into those bullies. If you hadn't been there, I don't even know what would have happened, and…"

Somehow it wasn't helping; somehow she just seemed to sound all the more stupid as she continued.

"You're too serious." Toby smirked. "Relax a bit. They shouldn't bother you again. Anyhow, I'm starving, I don't know about you…?"

"I am… a bit hungry," Eileen admitted, still somewhat sheepishly.

"There's a pretty good ice cream parlour at the end of the street…" Toby offered. "You been there before…?"

Eileen's eyes widened like saucers at the sound of that. Ice cream. She'd heard it mentioned tangentially in books. A type of food. Sweetened, frozen liquid with a soft quality to it. Mainly a muggle delicacy, though magical variants existed. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were supposed to have it as well. All her food, at least all she could consciously remember, however, was prepared by Eitra, her family's faithful House Elf. Eitra meant well, always took the best care of her. For all of Eileen's life until now, Eitra had been the closest thing she'd had to a friend. But, in all her life, Eitra had never made ice cream.

"Let's go!" Eileen exclaimed, suddenly embarrassed at her own exclamation.

"I have a few coins at least. Enough for both of us…" Toby said, as the two newfound friends started heading down the street.

"Oh…" Eileen frowned. It hadn't occurred to her initially, but, coming from a store, it'd have to be purchased. While there was a fair amount of her parents' money left in a vault for her at Gringotts, she hadn't even a penny of muggle money to her name. She didn't want to trouble Toby, who'd already done so much for her, any further; but, she had no way to purchase it otherwise. "I don't have any money on me…"

One of the first true statements she'd made to him, but it still felt like a lie.

"It's fine." Toby replied. "Really. Consider it a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift. Or, in your case, _welcome-to-the-neighborhood-outside-your-uncle's-house_." He crinkled his nose in a slight laugh. "Besides, someone has to show you we're not _all_ gits like those kids before."

"True…" Eileen smiled. "You don't seem like a git at least."

* * *

><p>The ice cream was, in a word, delicious. One of the greatest things Eileen had ever tasted, though it was so cold it made her teeth hurt a bit. She'd tried a few flavors at Toby's suggestion. Banana, pistachio, cherry. Overall, she thought cherry was probably the best of them, with little pieces of the fruit inside. She liked fruit. Alright, even in her head she was rambling. She had to look like an idiot in front of Toby. She should stop.<p>

"Thanks for bringing me here, Toby." She finally spoke, between spoonfuls of the red semi-solid. "It's really nice."

"Yeah, I like it a lot too…"

She'd meant him, but decided to leave it at that.

"We should come here again sometime…" Eileen offered, a bit hesitantly… "Now that we're friends I mean…?" _We're friends, right? _She hesitated to ask out loud.

"Sure. There's a couple other places I should show you when you have time. It's getting late, though, I should be going home for dinner."

Eileen's eyes shot wide with alarm at the sudden recollection. Her uncle. She'd sneaked away from home earlier in the day, when he was at his job with the Ministry. Surely he'd have returned by now. In all the excitement of first her rather nasty confrontation with the muggles, and now meeting Tobias, she'd forgotten entirely that she needed to return home before he did.

"Right…" she said softly, "I need to go too… Thanks for the ice cream, Toby…" She called with a sincere wave, before dashing off into the sunset.

* * *

><p>Particularly after she was outside of Tobias's sight, Eileen ran into a full sprint, trying to return home as fast as her feet could carry her. As if somehow being a few minutes earlier would alleviate the overall magnitude of her transgression.<p>

She was panting for breath by the time she'd arrived at her uncle's house at the end of Spinner's End. She'd dashed up the steps, yet before she could reach for the handle to the front door, it swung open.

"_There_ you are…" a stern voice – one that she knew all too well by now – admonished. A man of medium height, neither as short as Eileen's mother, nor so tall as his own brother had been stood in the doorway, his form somewhat a silhouette against the light shining outward from the threshold. His hair was grey, though still thick, his dark eyes felt even more uncomfortable than ever.

"Uncle, I…" Eileen stammered.

"_Where in Merlin's name _did you think you were going…? Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous the world outside is…? There's nothing out there, nothing surrounding us but _muggles_…! I've warned you so many times of their sort. How they tried to hunt us to extinction, why it's necessary for us to hide from them. How the traitors among our kind who love their sort, those blood-traitors, were almost certainly those responsible for your parents own deaths."

"I… I'm sorry…" Eileen shuddered, close to tears. Why did he have to go on and on? She knew this all, he'd said it so many times. And, for the most part, he seemed right. Except about Tobias. The other muggles were like her uncle described. Cruel, mean, jealous of magic-users. She was sure that they'd grow up to be just like the muggles of the past that her uncle used to tell her horror stories about trying to capture witches and wizards, stoning or burning them to death. Just for being superior.

She got it, really, she did. It was a dangerous idea to associate with most muggles. Until today she'd doubted it slightly, but the other muggles had all but crushed any remaining doubt to the veracity of her uncle's words. Muggles were, overall, dangerous beings.

Toby, though, had saved her. That had to count for something. It was almost like he was one of them. A wizard, just unable to use magic. What was the word – a "squib"? It sounded funny. Her uncle had derided them too from time to time – though nowhere near as harshly as the "muggles", "mudbloods", and "blood traitors" he harped on. So he wasn't a "squib". Maybe he was a "blood traitor" to the "muggles". Someone born a muggle, but protecting the other side. It was confusing, all the terms. She didn't know how he'd fit in actually. But… he was nice to her. The first, real, human friend she'd ever had her age. And somehow, the fact that his parents weren't a wizard and witch didn't seem to matter so much. She knew it should. There's little that her uncle had tried to drill into her head more than that muggles and their allies were her sort's natural enemies. Toby just didn't seem to fit the picture.

"Well, at least you aren't hurt…" her uncle continued, shaking his head disapprovingly, "Don't ever leave the house alone without my permission again, you understand…? The last thing I need is you going out, doing something stupid, and getting yourself hurt. I swore at your parents funeral that I'd protect you. Don't make my job any more difficult than it already is."

Her parents. He kept bringing them up. It was only making her feel all the more guilty. They'd died, were murdered. She still had recurring nightmares about that horrible night from time to time. The fire, the screams, Eitra saving her, but being unable to locate her parents. The funeral. Having to come and live with her uncle Frederik afterwards. He… was probably, probably right. He was just trying to protect her after all. Muggle-lovers had murdered her parents, or so she'd heard. Just like their muggle masters tried to wipe out the wizarding race centuries before. They had to be on guard, always vigilant against muggle and muggle-lover aggression, or they'd be wiped out. In a way, spending time with Toby, however innocent it might have seemed, almost seemed like betraying them. It was difficult to know what to think.

"I'm really sorry…" she started crying for real now, mostly at the thought of the terrible people who'd taken her parents from her. Someone who was probably still out there, free and living about society, when she'd never see her beloved mother and father again.

"Come on inside…" Uncle Frederik motioned. "Before dinner becomes entirely cold. Just don't ever do something like this again…"

Eileen knew far, far better than to protest the matter directly to her uncle. Nice as Toby had been, she knew there was simply no way he'd be able to understand that he wasn't like all the other, terrible muggles.


	4. Eileen's Scheme

**Author's Note: This and the next few pre-Hogwarts chapters are probably going to be a bit on the shorter side (roughly 1.5k words, rather than ~3k+ or so like I normally do). Just a fair warning in advance, as I have a few other, kind of "fluff" scenes in mind before the more dramatic stuff starts.**

**Anyhow, if you enjoy, or have any general commentary, please don't hesitate to comment, so I have some general feedback from my audience. Thanks to PhilosopherStone909 for doing just that.**

Dinner was quiet. More so than normal. Frederik muttered a few orders to Eitra, regarding the food and drink. His attention, though was entirely on the meal. Not even once did his eyes meet those of his niece. Not that Eileen would have wanted him to.

In the four years she'd been living with him, she knew her uncle well enough. He could become fiercely angry when the moment seized upon him. There were times when she'd be awakened from her sleep by his rantings in the dining room, entertaining his 'guests'. Especially when they started drinking. Railing against the 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' aspired to destroy their way of life, who were poisoning the Ministry.

At first, it had startled, confused her. The first time she could recall being woken up by such, she'd been six years old, barely a year after coming to live at Spinner's End in the first place. She'd thought first her uncle had been fighting someone, terrified that he too was in danger as her parents had been, and so came running out of her room, down the stairs, trying to 'escape' from the new danger she found herself in.

Instead, she was met with a number of adults, a number of them wearing hoods and robes – the kind like her uncle wore to his work. Sitting around the table, drinking out of glasses. A few of them snickered at her obvious fear and bewilderment. Frederik had only shook his head admonishingly, patting her a few times on the head, and introducing her to the group as his _pureblooded_ nice – he was certain to emphasize that, though she was just barely able to comprehend the term at the time – and telling her that, when she was older, she too could join in on such, but it was for adults only, and so she ought to return to bed. And so, urging the others to keep their voices down, he had Eitra send her back to her bed, and, presumably, the meeting continued.

In later such instances, as she grew older, Eileen grew increasingly curious to listen in to the goings on of her uncle's acquaintances. It seemed mostly drunken fraternizing between him and his ministry buddies, unfortunately; on most occasions, little of real interest came up. Occasionally though, they made reference to the hated mudbloods and traitors among their kind. These terms, at least Frederik was more than happy to explain to her time and time again – the ones who'd burned and hung and tortured witches and wizards to death for centuries, their natural enemies, who traitors in their own Ministry were beginning to foolishly, and suicidally, sympathize with. How if he had his way, "mudbloods" would never be allowed into their world; they'd just be left to fend for their own with their magic-hating relatives – let the two enemies battle it out and be done with it all.

He'd never been particularly angry with her though. Tonight had, in fact, been the most emotion, positive or negative, that she thought she could ever recall observing from the man. She was family to him – though viewed more as a biological and hereditary sense than anything too emotion – a fellow pureblood, and one of the two living members of the Prince Family. As he was unwed and lacked children, it accordingly would fall to her to carry on their most noble and ancient House; and, at her parents' funeral, he'd signed some sort of magically-binding document saying that he'd provide for her physical wellbeing. Something like that.

She supposed she didn't dislike the man. She had no reason to. While he could behave in a frightening manner at times, he'd never directed such towards her; merely towards those that she had every reason to believe were her natural enemies as well. While he was nowhere near as close to her as she could remember her parents – particularly her mother – having been, he at least kept her safe, warm, and fed. So in some senses at least, the man cared about her. If only by accident of their relation.

His work, if anything, was his true love, though. Uncle Frederik would be gone sometimes days at a time without explanation, then return almost as inexplicably. He was in the Department of Mysteries though, and in her extensive reading, Eileen had come upon discussion of it only tangentially. Secrecy and utter devotion to the job seemed to go with the territory, so maybe none of the above could fairly be thought of as faults against him, right…? He was just a hardworking man trying his best to succeed at his job, who'd taken her in after her parents' – his brother and sister-in-law – untimely deaths. Eitra was there to take care of her when he wasn't, so his work was no real trouble. And his only real malice was against those who deserved it. That seemed the best, most comfortable interpretation of events.

"Eitra, pass the bread," Frederik broke the silence, without looking up from his plate as the House Elf dutifully hurried to Eileen's uncle's side. She was motioned away just as quickly.

Between bites of roast duck, Frederik continued. "I have to be at work this next weekend. Obviously I don't want you going out of the house alone."

"Yes, uncle…" Eileen nodded, trying to suppress any hint of sadness in her tone. Arguing the matter would just make things worse.

"Eitra, you make sure she doesn't leave, you hear…?"

Eileen's eyes fell to the table. Perfect. No sneaking out. Unless explicitly ordered otherwise, Eitra generally let Eileen manage her own affairs. Unfortunately, an order from her uncle superseded all that. She really _would_ have to stay in all weekend.

* * *

><p>Eileen awakened with an audible groan as the sun's early-morning rays flooded her room. Invading the darkness that had previously sheltered her in blissful sleep. In dreams, sometimes at least, everything could be better. Her parents were still alive, she could still live with them in their beautiful manor. None of the "muggles" or "mudbloods" or "blood traitors", or whoever Frederik thought had killed them, could cause them any harm. Everything was well.<p>

Until the sunlight shattered the blissful illusion.

Breakfast was already prepare downstairs; Eitra always had it ready in advance. Three eggs, two pieces of toast, and a glass of chilled pumpkin juice. The same as always.

"Eitra…?" Eileen inquired, her eyes sparkling as innocently as she could muster for the plan she'd been plotting out the past week. Now that uncle Frederik was gone for at least three days, it might have a chance of working. "Do you really have to keep me inside the house all weekend…? It's so beautiful outside."

"Dreadfully sorry, young mistress. Can't disobey master's orders."

"Well…" Eileen frowned, "Whose House Elf are you…? You belonged to my parents, so shouldn't I have inherited you…?"

"All stipulated in the will, I'm afraid, young mistress. You'll inherit from your parents when you come of age. Until then, all of your parents' belongings are under your uncle's management on your behalf."

"So even though I'm the one who's supposed to inherit you, you have to listen to him over me…?" Eileen quirked her brow. "That doesn't really make sense."

"Rules are rules, I'm afraid. Can't disobey my master. Can't listen to you over him until you're seventeen."

"Fine…" Eileen shook her head in a look of defeat. "But, since you're a part of my parents' estate, _entrusted_ to my uncle, but eventually going to be mine… I suppose I can see how you can't disobey his orders. But you have to listen to mine too, right…?"

"As long as they don't conflict with his."

"Good!" Eileen beamed, thrusting a letter into the female House Elf's hand. "Uncle said I couldn't leave the House. He didn't say anything about you leaving or others coming, did he…?"

_Dear Toby._

_It was really nice to meet you. I'm unfortunately not able to go out of my house for the next few days, but if you'd like to visit me, I'd be very happy. My house is at the far end of Spinner's End._

_Eileen Prince._

"No, but young mistress…" Eitra shook her head frantically, "If master finds out, he'll be _furious_ at me."

"Then we'll just make sure he doesn't." Eileen mused. "And you just said a minute ago that you have to obey me as long as my orders don't go against his. So… Eitra, please deliver this letter to the Snape residence. _Don't_ be seen doing so. And when he shows up, you should probably hide as well."

"But…!" Eitra protested.

"It's an order."

And with that, the House Elf disapparated, Eileen wearing a very smug grin on her face.


End file.
